Live and Let Die
by Snow Slayer
Summary: Victor Fries never became super criminal Mr. Freeze because there was no accident and he never froze his wife. Instead, he followed her wishes and let her die of natural causes. **Warning: Contains dark themes and gore.**
1. Prologue

"Mr. Grant Walker has been taking a great interest in suspended animation recently. He would be quite willing to part with a great deal of money if GothCorp can build a working model that would allow a person to be placed into the cryogenics chamber prior to death and allow for easy restoration," GothCorp's head project manager stood at the end of the table, nervously tapping his fingers against his leg.

"We don't want to disappoint Grant, as he is one of our largest investors," the practical vice president stated, "but GothCorp does not have the necessary designs to meet the strict deadline. Grant wants the first working prototype by the end of the year. That only gives us four months, and it would take that amount of time alone just to design the machine, let alone build any semblance of a model." The project manager nodded his head sadly to confirm.

"It would be impossible to meet the deadline," another member of the executive meeting chimed in. Ferris Boyle, GothCorp's CEO, regarded all they had to say in silence. He rested his chin on his folded hands, staring at the preliminary design the project manager had sketched. It seemed rather familiar to him, and the idea struck.

"It's not impossible," Ferris informed them with a gleam in his eyes. "We have a GothCorp employee with the designs. His name is Victor Fries. He brought a final plan to my attention some months ago. To my knowledge, he has enough of a basis to start construction right away, thus eliminating the most of the planning process. Would that give us enough time to meet Grant's demand?" All in the meeting murmured amongst themselves.

"It may give us enough time," the vice president reported. "It will be a tight squeeze."

"If we get Fries' designs, it will give us a great head start," the project manager excitedly claimed. "His plans are usually construction ready and always detailed. Plus, if we get him in on the project, it'll be a cinch. I don't think he's missed a deadline. Ever. I don't know how he does it." Others were mimicking their enthusiasm.

"I'll talk to him first thing tomorrow morning. He might request to have a second chamber built. He designed the original to try and preserve his wife. We'll have to let him build two, one for Grant and one for his wife. At least we can use her as a test subject and –"

"Excuse me, Mr. Boyle, sir," one of the directors interrupted timidly. Ferris shot him a disgusted look, one that demanded a good reason for breaking his chain of thought. "I don't think that approach will work." He took a deep breath to compose himself among the silent stares.

"Fries' wife died two weeks ago."


	2. Chapter 1

"So you're the famous Victor Fries?" Grant pumped Victor's hand rapidly.

"I wouldn't say famous," Victor glanced at the full drink in his left hand to make sure none of the contents had spilled with the vigorous hand shake.

"Oh, don't be so modest. I've seen a lot of your work. You're a genius! I'm so glad to have you as the lead designer on my latest project," Grant beamed.

"Now, now, we're at a party. Let's not discuss business," Ferris butted in, giving Victor's shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he stepped forward to join the conversation. "Victor lives and breathes work. Let's give him a break, shall we?" He smiled pleasantly to Victor, who starred blankly at him, clueless to the job Grant referenced.

"Oh yes, after a long and hard twenty hour work week, we wouldn't want to add any overtime." Grant let out a booming laugh. "My bad, that's Gregory, isn't it?" Ferris chuckled.

"This is our workaholic," Ferris bragged.

"We'll you ought to make him head of your cryogenics department, Ferris," Grant encouraged. As he was turning to talk another guest that had captured his attention, he made a quick request of Victor.

"You hit me up later, and I'll get you set up with a weekend getaway on my yacht. You look like you need a vacation," Grant ran a finger under his eye in large circles, pointing out the obvious sign that Victor had been sleeping rather poorly. He headed off to mingle with the high ranking guests of Ferris' party. Ferris let out a sigh of relief before putting on his business smile.

"Have you had anything to eat yet?" Ferris was guiding him in the direction of one of the buffet tables.

"No," Victor admitted, distastefully looking over the glass of Dom Perignon Ferris had thrust in his hand the moment he caught sight of him.

"You're not on a special diet or anything are you? It looks like you've lost a lot of weight the last few months." Victor shrugged, having no response.

"Well help yourself to whatever you like. Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks," Victor murmured towards the floor. Ferris touched his shoulder again before he went to meet up with another group demanding his attention. Victor resigned himself to the far end of the table where fewer people had congregated. He had glanced over the hors o'dourves, but nothing seemed appetizing enough for him to put on a plate.

"This party's a real drag, isn't it?" a woman's voice came from behind him. He turned when he realized she was addressing him. She stood before him, dressed in a navy blue evening gown, the color perfectly matching GothCorp's color.

"Oh . . . no, it's pleasant."

"But you're not enjoying yourself," she insisted, selecting a plump cheese cube and popping it in her mouth.

"I'm not much of a party person."

"I could tell," she extended a hand in greeting. "I haven't seen you at the GothCorp dinner before. You must be Dr. Victor Fries."

"Uh, yes. I, um, didn't catch your name," he mumbled, feeling himself blush.

"You can call me Sarah." She smiled broadly, and he mustered up a shy one in return. He said nothing else, awkwardly waiting for her to move onto a more significant person. Instead, she attempted to envelope him in conversation.

"Grant Walker tells me you're going to be the next head of the Cryogenics department."

"Oh no, it was just . . . I couldn't possibly."

"And why not? You're dedicated, efficient, and smart. You're probably the smartest in the whole department, if not that wing of the building." He wanted to tell her that he was not good enough, that he had failed the only person in his life that had made him happy. How could he ever manage a whole department?

Her sincere smile and genuine interest talking with him made him think twice. Instead he simply stated, "Gregory is doing an excellent job of supervising cryogenics. He's a great manager."

"Gregory Belson? I'll take your word for it. I've only seen him after he gets a few drinks in him. He has quite a taste for fine liquor. I think it was a few years ago we had to keep him overnight." Victor studied her for another moment before realization clicked in.

"Mrs. Sara Boyle?"

"Oh no, did I give myself away?" she feigned exasperation. "Don't worry, I wasn't spying on you. I thought if I told you I was the hostess, you would get down on your knees and tell me this was the best party you had ever been to."

"It is nice." When she rolled her eyes, he added, "I've been to worse."

"So Victor Fries is a party animal?" she teased, a twinkle in her eye showing that she was just having fun, but not at his expense.

"Well the last party I went to, I ended up with a broken nose and a black eye. This one is at least a hundred times better."

"What happened?" she had nearly dropped her empty wine glass.

"He was just angry and my face was the closet to his fist," Victor began to recount the tale. He stopped almost immediately, unsure if she was actually interested in his life stories.

"What happened to him? I hope he got his just desserts."

"I feel bad for him, but he did end up leaving with a fractured arm. Compliments of my . . . wife . . ." He turned away as he felt tears sting his eyes. He took off his glasses and pretended to clean them as he dabbed his eyes with his sleeve.

"Well, I think she had every right. She's lucky to have you as a husband."

"I guess," he felt his stomach twist into knots and bile rise in his throat.

"Are you alright? You look pale." He tried to wave off the sudden wave of nausea.

"No, I'm fine."

"If you're looking for a quiet place, I recommend the back porch. Now if you'll excuse me," she glanced over her shoulder at a group that was waving her over, "I have to go pretend to be interested in the slight decline of stock prices." He took her advice, and, after he handed off his untouched drink to Gregory, he made his way to the back porch, slipping out unnoticed.

Ferris came out to find him towards the end of the party. Many of the guests had left, and he had not seen Victor around for the last two hours. After one of his butlers reported Victor's car was still parked outside, he found out from Sarah where Victor had disappeared to.

"I thought you had left," Ferris greeted as he closed the door behind him. Victor had leaned against the railing and jumped back the moment he heard the door open. There was little light that escaped from the interior of the house, so they were both cast in shadow.

"I just stepped outside for a minute," Victor wrung his hands, fingers fidgeting over his left hand.

"It's been more like two hours," Ferris teased, but took a more serious tone when he heard the tremble in Victor's voice.

"You've been crying," he stepped closer and wrapped an arm around Victor's shoulder. Victor could not deny that most of his time alone had been spent mourning, but he let Ferris comfort him for the time being.

"Why don't you go home? I was going to talk to you, but it can wait until Monday. Come and talk to me in the morning. Don't come up before nine. I know you're there early, but I am not as much of an early bird as you." He laughed, hoping Victor would appreciate a little of the humor. Victor made no sound, as he let Ferris pull him back inside, declining to take any food or drinks home with him. He bid a small farewell to Sarah on his way out, keeping his red and swollen eyes diverted towards the ground.


	3. Chapter 2

"Victor! It's so good to see you again," Sarah opened the door for him and bid him inside. Immediately, a large golden retriever had bounded over to meet him. Sarah held the dog back so it would not overwhelm Victor.

"Calm down, Lexi. He's going to stay for dinner." Victor reached out hesitantly and patted the dog on the head. Lexi, in return, sniffed his hand and nuzzled into his palm, wagging her tail wildly the whole time.

"It looks like you've earned the Lexi stamp of approval," she smiled and led them both down the hallway towards the living room. "Ferris is just in the other room."

Upon their entry, Ferris rose and greeted Victor. "I thought you weren't going to make it!"

"I apologize for being late," Victor muttered sheepishly. "I was trying to get to a good stopping point." Ferris waved off the apology. He realized Victor had stayed at least an hour and a half after his shift had ended, but also knew there would be no overtime claim on his timesheet.

"Not to worry, you're just in time for dinner." They moved to the dining room, and Victor took his place in a seat next to Ferris. Sarah, now aware that Victor's wife had passed recently, steered the conversation towards safer topics. She talked about work, asking what Victor was working on, but Ferris cut in.

"It's still in the development stages, and a first for all of Gotham," Ferris explained.

"So another top secret project," Sarah understood. "The secret project for Bruce Wayne or someone else?"

"Someone else," Ferris clarified, "but we're trying to keep it on the down low so our competitors don't start harassing our clients."

"Fine. I won't ask anymore. Victor, how's your dinner?" she met his gaze, and he glanced away, seeing that his hosts were nearly finished.

"It's lovely," he picked at it faster, pretending he had a considerable appetite. The meal was not as exuberant as the party, consisting of a well-cooked steak, a potato dish that Victor had never had, and an assortment of seasoned vegetables. Sarah dragged Ferris into a lengthy discussion on the addition to the garage they were planning, giving Victor time to finish. He readily declined seconds.

"Are you sure you don't want more?" Sarah asked. Ferris answered on his behalf.

"Don't pressure him. He's saving room for dessert, right?" Victor nodded in agreement, the thought of eating more repugnant. They migrated back to the living room, reclining on the couches. Ferris poured himself and Sarah a drink, but Victor had refused, asking only for water under the pretense he still needed to drive home.

"Why don't you spend the night?" Ferris suggested as he sat down a respectable distance away from Victor.

"Oh, well I couldn't. I mean, I don't want to impose myself."

"Nonsense," Sarah chimed in. "There's plenty of space. We can hunt down something that you can sleep in." Lexi teamed up with her owners, resting her head on Victor's leg as if she did not want him to go.

"Um, okay. That would be nice."

"Do you want a nightcap now?"

"No, thank you, I'll pass." They chatted, Sarah and Ferris dominating as Victor had little to add. Lexi ended up in Victor's lap, against Ferris' wishes and attempts to keep her away. Victor swore to the moon and back that he did not mind, scratching behind Lexi's ears.

"Shall I get us dessert?" Sarah exclaimed after a while. She was waiting for Victor's response, so he finally mumbled a "sure" and moved to stand up and help.

"You can just sit right there. If you're a guest, you're supposed to be waited on hand and foot." As she disappeared into the other room, she added, "Ferris is going to carry you to your bed chambers later."

"You're not going to help?" Ferris shouted back in good humor.

"I'll be much too tired. You'll have to carry me, too," she responded with a pleasing laugh. Ferris chuckled with a shake of his head. Even Victor managed a goofy grin at the exchange.

"I do have a quick tidbit of work before Sarah gets back. I was thinking about switching you from Bruce Wayne's commission. That is, if you don't mind."

"That's fine." Ferris paused a moment before continuing.

"I would really appreciate it if you would work on Grant's project. Your designs were excellent, and I think you would be best to work on it. Only if you think you want to," Ferris struggled to keep a bright smile while he explained his request.

"Sure," Victor agreed immediately, "I'll start Monday." Sarah returned, expertly balancing the three plates and forks.

"It's supposed to be a relaxing dinner, not a work meeting," she chided, distributing the pumpkin pie.

"It's been two hours since I left work," Victor started uneasily. "I might spontaneously combust if I don't at least talk about work." There was a hesitant pause before Ferris let out a booming laugh, realizing Victor was joking.

"Please don't, not on the couch at least," Sarah's face was bright red as she tried to contain her laughter.

As it grew later, Sarah suggested that they turn in, and \ led Victor to the guest room as Ferris rifled through his clothing to find something that would fit Victor. She bid him a good night as Ferris returned with the sleep wear.

"Holler if you need anything," Ferris waved as he sauntered towards the master bedroom. Victor closed the door behind him and prepared for bed. The house was silent for a few hours until a scratching noise woke Ferris. He slipped from the master bedroom seeing Lexi a few doors down clawing at Victor's door.

"You'll wake him up," he pushed her away with his foot. He was about to scold her for whining when he realized the noise was coming from inside Victor's room. A quiet tap at the door brought no response, so he tested the door knob. It turned easily in his grasp, and he slid the door open enough to poke his head inside.

"Victor?" he called out tentatively. He stepped inside and could just make out Victor cured up tightly on the bed, tossing about. Victor whimpered out what sounded like a frantic apology. Ferris touched his shoulder, then shook Victor to try and wake him. Victor finally woke with a startled gasp, trying to gather his bearings.

"Are you alright?" Ferris sat down next to him, stroking Victor's arm. Each breath from Victor came in rapid succession and when Ferris touched Victor's wrist, he could feel his pulse racing.

"I – I'm fine." Victor took several deep gulps of air, the grip of the nightmare finally vanishing.

"Let's go downstairs for a few minutes. I'll get you something to help you sleep." Victor agreed and followed his employer back to the kitchen.

"So, has this been happening a lot?" Ferris poured Victor a small glass of red wine. He pushed it into Victor's hands and fixed a drink for himself. Victor studied the drink down his nose, taking a timid sniff.

"Go ahead and try it. It'll help you sleep better." Victor swallowed the lump in his throat and took a measured sip. Finding it pleasing, he drained the glass in a few mouthfuls. Satisfied with the response, Ferris topped off Victor's glass and they moved to the living room.

After a third glass, Victor found his head resting on Ferris' lap. He did not remember how that had happened, but he could not manage to stop giggling uncontrollably to ask.

"Could I has s'more?" Victor slurred as Ferris rubbed his back.

Ferris smirked at his request. "More wine? I think you've had enough."

"Ams I drunk?" Victor managed, disappointed.

"Just a little," Ferris was snickering at how absurd Victor had become with such a small quantity of alcohol.

"Juss a lil'," Victor repeated, sighing contently. He was struggling to keep his eyes open with the gentle circles Ferris traced around his shoulder blades and lower back.

"You ready to go back to bed?" Victor made a noise in his throat which Ferris took as confirmation. He wrapped his arm around Victor to keep him upright as they staggered up the stairs. Ferris was practically dragging him when they reached the guest bedroom.

"You don't drink often, do you?" Ferris tucked the covers over him.

"Nevers," Victor admitted rather loudly.

"You might be a tad hung over in the morning," Ferris frowned. "I'll bring up some water." By the time he returned, Victor had begun snoring quietly and Lexi had curled up by his feet. He left the water and shooed Lexi out of the room.

Victor slept in later than he had in years. He trudged down after nine the next morning, a headache starting to fester, but looking well rested for once. Sarah enticed him to eat a small breakfast before he insisted he had to leave.


	4. Chapter 3

"Husband dear, we should invite Victor over again," Sarah purred in Ferris' ear. He groaned, having been on the verge of sleep and rolled over onto his back.

"Haven't we had him over enough?" he grumbled. "It's been . . . what? Three times?" His response was groggy, so Sarah kissed him on the lips to help wake him.

"Yes, but the first was the party and he was absolutely miserable, and the second was just so you could have a business meeting with him. So technically it's been just that one time he stopped by for lunch a few weeks ago." Ferris grunted, but did not argue.

"Besides, it might do him good to get out of his house more, especially if the only thing he does is work. The last time I saw him, he looked quite awful, with the growing bags under his eyes. He looks like he's lost a lot of weight too fast, and frankly, I think he's suffering from severe depression."

"What did you expect? His wife just died."

"Yes, but it's been a month and a half and he still looks like it just happened yesterday. He has every right to be upset, but I'm worried about him."

"He'll be fine. He just needs to keep busy," Ferris assured her as he yawned. Sarah slid closer to him and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"I know. It must be tough on him. I can't imagine the shock of losing a loved one so suddenly. Didn't you say they were married for nine years?"

"Uh-huh, but it wasn't so sudden."

"What do you mean?" She sat up stiffly, demanding an explanation.

"She had MacGregor's," Ferris enlightened her. "He knew about it for a while."

"Oh, poor thing! I can't imagine how awful it was for him, having to watch his wife slowly die . . . and not being able to do anything about it." She grew silent as the minutes ticked by.

"I'll invite him tomorrow and see if he's free on Friday," he finally conceded, shifting restlessly.

"Thank you," she ran a hand through his hair affectionately.

"Whatever," Ferris mumbled, turning back onto his side. "I just don't want to harass him about coming over."

"You don't seem to have any qualms about having Gregory over a few times a month."

"I don't know what you have against him."

"He's lazy, for one thing," Sarah responded immediately, "and he doesn't seem to pull his weight at work. He's quite ill-mannered once you get a few drinks in him as you try to find out about who's doing what in cryogenics, only because you can't get him to write the reports as work."

"Alright, alright, I'll invite Victor over," he grumbled into the pillow. Sarah rewarded him with a quick kiss on the cheek.

Ferris wandered into the labs the next day, wishing he had a warmer coat. He noted Gregory had once again not arrived on time. His main target was sitting alone, hunched over his designs as he frantically scribbled measurements. Leaning in the doorway, Ferris stood silently as Victor typed in formulas on the calculator with flying fingers. As if the feeling of being watched finally dawned on him, Victor glanced up. In his surprise, his chair hit the floor and he nearly toppled over it.

"Mr. Boyle, sir, I'm sorry. I didn't see you." Ferris was struggling to suppress a laugh at Victor's bewildered expression.

"Would you like to see the progress?" Victor ventured nervously when Ferris had not yet spoken.

"That's not why I'm here, but I'd love to see how far you and your team has come." Victor led Ferris to the locked room deeper into the lab and keyed them in. Together, they gently pulled the large cloth that covered the machine.

"I'm impressed," Ferris circled the device.

"We still need to fasten the ports for the coolant and finish attaching the sides," Victor explained, indicating the unfished sides. "Then we have to create the shell for the enclosed space and finally, perfect the coolant itself." Ferris nodded his approval. The model was much further along than he had dared to hope. He was convinced they would meet the deadline with time to spare.

Victor began to cover the machine after Ferris had completed the short inspection of the handicraft. As Victor was straightening the tarp, Ferris noticed the tail ends of several scratches peeking from the edge of his right sleeve. With a swift movement, Ferris grabbed Victor's arm and held his hand palm up before Victor could protest.

"What's this?" Ferris asked suspiciously, pushing the sleeve up and noting the shallow cuts on his wrist. They were not deep enough to be a threat, but Ferris saw they were dangerously close to the veins.

"I was t-trying to c-cook dinner. I, uh, I'm not very good at it." Victor trembled under Ferris' gaze, trying to force a smile.

"Is that so?" Ferris saw the difficulty Victor was having in speaking.

"Yeah, I've switched back to frozen dinners. They're less dangerous," he gave a hollow chuckle. Upon the release of his arm, both of Victor's hands disappeared into his pockets.

"You should be more careful," Ferris' tone had softened. "Anyway, my wife was wondering when you would come over and grace us with your presence again. She's been talking about you a lot lately."

"Oh, I don't want to impose. You both have been so kind to me."

"Imposing? Nonsense! Are you free Friday evening? Why don't you come over then? We'll have a nice dinner, maybe a few drinks, it'll be nice."

"Are you sure it won't be a problem?"

"Of course!" he clapped Victor on the shoulder as they headed back to the desk Victor had been working at prior to Ferris' visit. "We'd love to have you over."


	5. Chapter 4

"I'm glad you didn't stay late today," Sarah and Lexi welcomed Victor inside. "Too much work isn't good for you, you know." Victor nodded as she stripped him of his overnight bag.

"Unfortunately, Ferris got held up back at the office, and doesn't know when he'll be home. I think he said it was an old college friend of his or something, so he may be out all night." Sarah left Lexi to keep Victor company as she took his bag upstairs. When she returned, Lexi barked excitedly with the prospect of going for a walk. The three strolled in the backyard, Victor comfortable in only his work clothes while Sarah had donned a jacket.

"I'll bet your heating bill is low in the winter," she shivered as a breeze cut through her jacket. Victor seemed unfazed by the wind.

"I'm use to the cold since the labs are relatively chilly. The ac bill in the summer is astronomical!" Sarah laughed along with him, pleased that he was a little less reserved.

"So how is work going for you? Last time Gregory was over, he said you had practically moved into GothCorp."

"No, that's not true," Victor defended himself good naturedly.

"Well, he says you're always there before him, typically leave after him, and never clock out for lunch. I think his claims are pretty justified."

"I just . . . forget to record my lunch break," Victor muttered feebly. "The system records it automatically anyway."

"As long as you take one, I guess that's alright." Victor happily let the subject drop. He did not want to accidently admit that his lunch break was usually a working one, if he bothered to take one at all.

"What are you working on, now that you have taken up residence there? Bruce Wayne's project?" Victor shook his head and Sarah listed a few other prominent projects.

"Then you must be on Grant Walker's." Victor finally provided a confirming nod. "Pardon me for asking, but cryogenic suspension? I know you have a doctorate in cryogenics, but it seems to me that your skills would be better suited for Bruce Wayne's project, judging from your previous work." Victor turned his attention to a fallen leaf as he answered.

"I drabbled in suspended animation for a while," he said bitterly as he ground the leaf to shreds under his toe. "I had a great interest when I was younger, and I thought maybe I could give Nora a bit more time until I could find a c-cure, but she said it was her t-time to –"

"I'm so sorry! I didn't know." Lexi had stepped up next to him and leaned against him as his tears started to flow.

"That's okay, it was just a silly fantasy," he sniffed, drying his eyes on his sleeve. "Because she was so weak, she might not have survived the . . . process." They walked on in silence. When they had circled back to the porch, the butler informed them that Ferris had called and claimed he would be dining with his guest.

Victor tried his hardest to hold a pleasing conversation, inquiring about her job and hobbies. By the time Ferris arrived home, Victor had retired to bed. Ferris announced his presence as he walked in the door. Upon receiving no answer, he sauntered into the living room. Sarah had busied herself with reading the newspaper, curled up on the recliner.

"Is Victor here?" he posed the question casually.

"He went to bed," she responded curtly.

"Already? It's only eight."

"He's exhausted," her words retained the bitter edge. "And it's no wonder why, with all the stress you've put on him at work."

"What are you talking about?" Ferris kept an even tone as he sat on the adjacent couch.

"Don't act like nothing is wrong with him at work," she warned, folding the newspaper briskly. "I know he's working on the suspended animation project."

"So? He had the designs and knows a lot more about it than anyone else."

"And do you know why?"

"Apart from trying to freeze the neighborhood pets when he was younger, probably to save his wife."

"Did he mention that to you before?"

"I guess. A few months ago, I think he talked about it. Before you yell at me, no, I can't honor every outrageous request that comes my way from my employees."

"I'm sure nothing would be too big for your pet, Gregory, since you love him so much," she spat angrily.

"I would not! At least Gregory helps save GothCorp money in the long run."

"Only because he cuts corners and just looks for monetary profit . . . just like you." Ferris huffed, but Sarah took a deep breath and pressed on.

"I'm not blaming you for not honoring his request in the first place. On the other hand begging for his blueprints and making him work on the design he initially intended for Nora is just twisting the knife in his heart a little more. You said it's almost done right?" Ferris confirmed.

"I think you should take him off the project. The rest of the team can figure it out on their own."

"We'll see." Ferris took his leave for the evening, and Sarah eventually followed in suit when she had cooled off enough. They only had a few hours of sleep before Ferris' restlessness woke them both.

"Nightmares again?"

"Yes," Ferris shook his head and wiped the fine layer of sweat from his brow. He stood up and headed for the bedroom door.

"Where are you going?" Sarah called after him as she snuggled back into the pillow.

"Just going to check on Victor."

"Mm-kay. Don't wake him," she murmured into the cushion. Ferris briskly made his way to Victor's room. He found the door slightly ajar, so he pushed it open and glanced inside. With the dim light that came from the hall, he saw Lexi raise her head from the foot of the bed.

"Lexi, he hissed venomously, "leave him alone."

"Oh, she's fine," Victor's voice startled Ferris backwards a step. "I mean, unless she's not allowed on the bed." Ferris held a hand to his heart as he waited for the beat to slow to normal.

"I thought she was just harassing you. She's allowed on the bed." Ferris invited himself in and perched on the edge of the bed. Victor sat up and swung his legs over the side.

"No, she's no trouble at all," he patted Lexi's head as she wedged herself between the two men.

"Is everything alright with you?"

"Hm? Oh yes, I'm fine."

"Is everything at work fine, too?"

"Oh, yes sir. We're a little ahead of schedule, I think, and next week—"

"I meant with you, not the project."

"Oh . . . yes. Everything is fine," Victor fidgeted with his hands. Gently, Ferris laid a hand over Victor's hands, causing Victor to freeze and look up.

"Alright," Ferris patted his stilled hands and stood to leave. "But I want you to tell me if anything's wrong, okay?"

"Okay," Victor mumbled. He laid back down once Ferris left and Lexi cuddled against his chest as he cried himself to sleep.


	6. Chapter 5

**Author note: This chapter is the start of some of the darker themes. Contains gore and other triggers. If you want the specific triggers, please message me.**

"You don't have to walk the dog," Ferris held his jacket tight against himself when he met Victor outside the next morning. "Someone else would have walked her in a bit."

"It's no trouble at all. It's a nice day out." He wore his jacket unbuttoned.

"Well, it's a bit chilly if you ask me." Victor walked aimlessly as Lexi tugged him along her usual trail. Ferris kept pace alongside of them, worried about the vacant expression in Victor's eyes.

"We first met in October," Victor contemplated. "Ten years ago from today." Ferris was silent, expecting Victor to recount his first meeting with his departed wife. When Victor spoke no more, he laid an arm over Victor's small frame, guiding him back towards the house.

"It's best not to dwell on the sad memories," Ferris had to keep his teeth from clattering as he spoke. Victor nodded sadly and allowed Ferris to convince him to head inside for a warm breakfast. Victor ate with more vigor than any other time he had been invited to the Boyle residence, greatly pleasing both hosts.

"Have any plans for the weekend?" Ferris asked politely.

"I have to take care of a few things . . . Just some things I've been meaning to do for a while."

"How _exciting_," Ferris snickered. Victor shrugged with a lopsided smile.

"It has to be done sometime. The sooner the better."

As they bid their farewells, Lexi bounded behind Victor. She whined as he reached for the doorknob and nipped at his knees. Ferris stepped forward to scold her, but Victor knelt down and petted her.

"It's alright. Don't worry about me," he cooed as she licked his nose.

"He'll be back again sometime, right Victor?" She held onto Lexi's collar as Ferris opened the door for Victor. He thanked them greatly for their hospitality and waved as he drove home. When the butler was cleaning the guest room at eleven, he stumbled upon Victor's wallet and passed it off to Sarah.

"Ferris, can you pull up Victor's address on your database?" Sarah requested as he booted up his laptop to check his work email. "I'll return his wallet to him."

"I'll just give it to him on Monday," Ferris insisted.

"But he might need it before then. It shouldn't take that long." Ferris begrudgingly supplied the information. Sarah called Victor's house, but received no answer. Undeterred, she made the hour trek to his home.

She pulled in behind Victor's lone, gray car, double checking the address as she climbed the stairs. Before she had a chance to knock, she heard a sharp _bang _from inside the house. Rapping at the door, she glanced about, hoping to stumble upon a spare key. She found a secret compartment under the mail box and let herself in.

She called his name several times as she waited for the emergency operator to pick up.

"Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?" Sarah rattled off Victor's address and explained she had heard a gunshot that sounded like it came from inside the house. Against the calmly spoken "Ma'am I need you to wait outside, the police are on the way," Sarah insisted she was inside and looking around.

"I know the person who lives here and I need to find . . . hold on, I see him." She saw the back of Victor's head over the top of the couch, tilted forward as if he were looking at something on his chest. Sarah ran to him.

She did not scream when she saw the gun held limply in his hand or the rapidly spreading red stain expanding on his chest. She merely stated, "A man's been shot in the chest. Please send the paramedics."

She went into business mode, doing everything the operator told her until the medics arrived and wheeled Victor into an ambulance. She drove herself to the hospital, ignoring her racing heart as she parked in the visitor's lot and hurried inside. After she found out Victor had gone into surgery, she called Ferris.

"Hi, Sarah. Did you find his house alright?"

"Yeah, I found it," she sighed.

"But what? What's wrong?"

"Don't panic, I'm fine. I'm at the Gotham Central Hospital with Victor."

"With Victor? Oh God, what happened?"

"He shot himself," her answer betrayed her weariness as she sunk into the chair. She heard a gasp at the other end of the line followed by a long silence.

"Was it . . .?"

"Attempted suicide? Yes," she finished for him, massaging her temple with her free hand. She imagined Ferris was doing the same thing, running a hand through the graying hair at his temples.

"He's just gone into surgery now. They think he has a fighting chance if the bullet missed major organs."

"Do you need me to come over? Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I think I'm okay. I just need to sit down for a while and collect myself. I'm going to stay here and wait for him to come out of surgery."

"Are you sure? If you need me, just call, and I'll be there in a flash."

"I will," she promised. "I love you."

"Love you, too, sweetheart." Ferris disconnected and she leaned back in the chair, the initial shock starting to fade, only to be replaced with a sickening dread. She was only slightly placated when a kind nurse told her Victor had finally been moved to intensive care. It took a bit of convincing to allow the secretary to allow her to go up even though visitor hours had ended, but she finally found herself being escorted to his room. Another nurse was double checking the tubes coming from Victor's arms and readjusted the oxygen mask.

"He's going to need a lot of time to recover, but I think he's going to be fine. He was lucky. The bullet came close to his heart, just narrowly avoiding it." Sarah sighed before sinking onto the worn couch. She and the nurse shared hopeful smiles before the nurse had to move onto the next room. Sleep overtook her, not to be disturbed by the doctors and nurses that came in through the night to check on Victor.

A few beams of sunlight pushed through the curtains and rested on his face. Victor fought to open his eyes, his entire world hazy without his glasses. He was acutely aware of the dull ache in his chest as he touched the fine sheet. He moved to sit up, yet only managed a few inches before the searing pain coursed through his chest. He let out a groan which woke the sleeping figure.

Sarah appeared in his field of vision. She took his limp hand, gently caressing his palm. Victor sighed, and shrank back onto the hospital bed in despair. A doctor came in shortly after, but he had faded into unconscious before the doctor spoke a word.

He did not come to again until late in the afternoon. Sarah was still at his side when pain dragged him from sleep again. The throbbing pain was in perfect rhythm with the shallow beats of his heart.

"Mm sos sorry," he slurred out, drowsiness making his tongue heavy as the words tumbled out. "I didn't meant for yous to find me." Tears rolled down his cheeks as silent sobs racked his body, bring a fresh shard of pain with each breath. Sarah held his hand firmly as she wiped away his tears.

Even as the muscles in his neck protested any movement, he turned his head away to avoid her sympathy.

"I wanted to make the pain go away," his voice came as a strained whisper. "But I couldn't even do that. Now I've made it worse for everyone else." Sarah smoothed his hair back and squeezed his hand gently.

"I can't begin to imagine what you're going through. I only wanted to help you through this, and I wished I knew how."

"I don't know why," he spat bitterly, and immediately winced at the movement. "I'm useless, pathetic. I'm not good for anyone or anything. I couldn't find the cure, I couldn't save her, I couldn't even rid the world of my miserable existence. No one should have cared about me."

"I care, Victor. I've heard about what you've done in the labs and I've witnessed the miracles you've produced. You don't receive half of the credit due to you. You're so much more than just a name on a report." Victor wanted to refute the statement, but the pain had grown too powerful without the soothing benefit of pain medication.

He thought he had only blinked, but it was dark outside when he studied his surroundings. A new face materialized above him before he understood it was a doctor changing the bandage on his chest. He forced his eyes closed, unwilling to look at the mangled flesh or gaping wound. The skilled fingers hardly made contact with the injury, applying on the lightest pressure when securing the new wrapping. Once the doctor had left, two familiar faces drew up above him.

"Hello, Victor," Ferris greeted him softly. Victor gurgled out a greeting as Ferris took a seat in the chair next to the bed.

"I won't keep you long. Sarah said this is the first time you've been up today." Ferris' smile still came easily. Victor did not even feel the corners of his mouth twitch. He stared at his boss blindly, his mind too clouded to come up with anything coherent. He vaguely made out Ferris wishing him well and assuring him Sarah would be back first thing in the morning. Victor managed a single nod. Sarah stroked his hand and bid him a good night as she walked out with Ferris, leaving Victor's side for the first time since he had come out of surgery.

"How long do they predict he's going to be in the hospital?" Ferris asked as they headed to their cars.

"They're looking at a month possibly. They don't think there is going to be lasting physical damage, but recovery will take a long time." Ferris was calculating if that would leave enough time to request the coolant notes from him when Sarah interrupted his train of thought.

"I'm going to ask him to speak with a therapist when he feels up to it. He's had the thought of committing suicide on his mind for a long time, and I don't want him to try again."

"Don't you think he'll realize how important life is?"

"He told me he feels worthless and that nobody would care if he was gone. There was other signs he had tried to end his life before. The doctors found cuts both wrists, thankfully shallow enough not to cause him to bleed out. He also has no desire to take care of himself. He's suffering from a severe lack of sleep and his teeth are eroding due to excessive vomiting. I think he was subconsciously trying to starve himself."

"That would explain why he's been losing weight so rapidly," Ferris commented thoughtfully as they reached the parking lot. "Plus, the reason he had little appetite when he visited."

"I hope he can get the help he needs," Sarah chewed at her lip. "We'll just have to make sure we're there for him, because I don't think he'll reach out on his own."


	7. Chapter 6

"Victor, are you sure you don't need any morphine?" Victor nodded in response to Ferris' inquiry, his teeth clinched. He forced his jaw to relax so he could speak.

"I don't want to take any more than I have to," Victor struggled to get out.

"Alright, it just looks to me like you're in a lot of unnecessary pain," Ferris stated before lapsing back into silence. Victor took a few slow breaths to dissipate the tightness in his chest and revealed his reasoning.

"I want to be off of any medication and out of the hospital. It just . . . brings back a lot of bad memories." Ferris struggled to find something comforting to respond to Victor's disheartened comment. He ended up saying nothing, instead glancing discreetly at his watch. Two hours had passed since Ferris had crossed into the room, and the sun had all but vanished over the horizon.

"You don't have to stay," Victor murmured. "I'll just go back to sleep. Then I'll be able to heal sooner and get back to work."

"Don't worry about GothCorp," Ferris sighed before forcing a smile. "You have plenty of time to take off. Take as much time as you need."

"Okay," Victor soberly agreed to Ferris' beaming grin. He settled back into the pillow. As Ferris was gathering his belongings, Victor made a last request of him for the evening.

"Will you . . . let Sarah know she doesn't have to take time off to come tomorrow. I mean, if she doesn't want to. I feel like I'm forcing –"

"I'll tell her, Victor, but you should expect her anyway," Ferris cut in with a knowing grin. "She can be pretty stubborn." Victor smiled a little and was left alone for the evening.

"I'm glad to see you up and about," Sarah pulled up a chair next to his by the mediocre window that overlooked the equally pitiful hospital garden.

"They wanted me to start moving around some. They're pleased that I could walk some, but it's tiring."

"That's good progress, though. How are you feeling otherwise?"

"Honestly, a bit light headed, just from being up. Otherwise . . . I guess, I don't know. Calm? It's hard to say."

"That's alright. I just hope that you keep talking with someone. We all want to help you." He turned away from the meager garden stories below and met her eyes.

"Thank you. I just . . . don't want to trouble anyone. I'm seeing somebody, like you suggested, so I just don't want to be a burden on you."

"If you were troubling me at all, I would not bother with you. You're not a burden at all," she assured him seriously.

"But you're missing so much work to see me," Victor insisted with more urgency.

"I think you're more important than a few hours of managing my business. You know you're starting to pick up too many GothCorp traits," she smiled warmly.

"Maybe, but work was the only thing that helped me get this far."

"Is that why you worked so many hours?" He nodded stiffly with a frown. "I had Ferris go through some of GothCorp's old security feed. You were in the building almost twelve hours a day the last month. There was a few times you worked for sixteen hours straight."

"I know," Victor admitted, his cheeks tinged red. "I just . . . couldn't stand to be home. It was too painful. I thought about moving, but I couldn't bring myself to go through everything to pack up and leave."

"At the time, I saw no reason to take time off when Nora passed away. She . . ." he trailed off hopelessly, passing a deep sigh.

"We don't have to talk about this now if you don't want to," Sarah rested her hand on top of his. He expressed his gratitude at her understanding with the remnants of a smile.

"No, my therapist said it was best to talk about it . . . and I-I think I can. I'll try." He paused to gather his thoughts.

"Nora was always practical," he began at last, staring out the window as he spoke. "She was great with people and knew how to plan things out. She had had her will in order and all the funeral arrangements made well before she was on hospice."

"I think she always knew what to do with me as well. I insisted I could stay home from work in the last few weeks, but she would hear none of it. She has always been the stronger of the two of us, and knew how much it hurt to sit by her side as the illness slowly consumed her."

"I tried researching the cure at the first mention of the illness, but I found nothing. I wanted to give us more time, a fighting chance, so I started spending hours designing a cryogenics chamber for her. Every waking moment at home was dedicated to her or working on the design. I started going for days on end without sleep, using my lunch break at work to try and get an hour here or there. I guess that was about six months before . . . anyway, it took about two months for the designs, but in retrospect, she would not have wanted me to ever implement them anyway. So I kept researching the cure."

"Finally, the illness took a turn for the worst that last Friday, and she wasn't expected to make it much longer. She was home for a week and a day, and refused that I be at her side the entire time. She knew I would lose myself in work for eight hours each day, and she wanted me to have that break." Tears steadily fell from his hollow eyes as he recounted the last few days.

"I was at her side when she passed. It was slow, quiet. Very peaceful. She told me she loved me and . . . she passed away a few hours later. So I went to work on Monday and never told a soul. There was . . . she had taken care of everything, and there was nothing I needed to do. So I worked."

He stopped speaking and stared blindly ahead. The corners of his mouth quivered as he held in a sob. Sarah had taken his hands in hers, and now gently traced her thumb over his clinched fists. Victor pulled one hand away to wipe the tears from his face.

"Are you alright?" Sarah whispered. He opened his mouth, but the words came out as nothing more than a squeak filled with sadness and pain. Instead, he pursed his lips and nodded, eyes closed tight as he cried.

Sarah swept away his tears and stroked his head as he calmed. His harsh sobs gradually subsided. He leaned back heavily in the chair, his face seeming to sag in exhaustion.

"Thank you for talking to me," she ran her fingers through his hair lovingly. "Let's get you back to bed, shall we?"


	8. Chapter 7

Victor walked slowly, a hand pressed to his heart. After his three week stay in the hospital, he was finally deemed well enough to return home. The pain was almost unnoticeable when he was still, and only flared up when he moved too quickly or tried to lift heavy objects. Any type of exercise was still exhausting, but he was recovering strength.

When Sarah unlocked the door and led him inside, he was struck immediately at the difference in the atmosphere. The blinds had all been opened, allowing the natural sunlight to filter in and healthy green plants in the corners. Victor nervously glanced into the living over Sarah's shoulder, relief flooding him as he saw his old couch, having been stained with his blood, had been replaced by a denim blue sofa.

Appalled by his own lack of hospitality, Victor offered some refreshments. "I'm afraid I do not have much to offer, though," he confessed as Sarah situated him on the new furniture. He sank down in the plush cushions, quite pleased with her selection.

"I know. I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of restocking your fridge and pantry. It seemed right bare."

"That wasn't necessary! I had enough food," Victor protested meekly as she disappeared into the kitchen. She returned with a tall glass of water for them both, tutting at his remark.

"A few frozen dinners and expired milk would not last forever. I'd like to see you back on a normal diet. I also, as you can see, had some movers come in and removed your old couch. Don't worry, I checked all the cushions for hidden stashes of cash. I think I found almost a dollar in change, which is on the table next to you."

"You didn't have to replace . . ." he caught her smile and amended his comment. "Thank you. I really do appreciate it. I was worried what I was going to have to do when I was allowed to return home."

"You're very welcome. And no, it was no trouble at all and you may _not_ pay me back for it." His next statement died on his lips and Sarah could not help but chuckle as he pretended to pout.

"Now, you sit right there and make yourself comfy. I'll make you Sarah's Famous Spaghetti for lunch." She returned to the kitchen, and began searching the cabinets for the skillet and pan she needed.

"You are not allowed to come in and help," she shouted as she began to brown the ground turkey and sauté the onions.

"Are you a mind reader?"

"Oh yes, and I am a self-appointed dictator. Don't let Ferris fool you into thinking he's the head of the household." She poked her head into the living room to make sure he was complying. Satisfied with his reclined position, she continued working. Soon, the savory scent of tomato sauce and onions wafted in the living room, preceding Sarah as she brought out the meal. Victor hardly finished more than half.

"It's delicious," he insisted. "Truthfully, I haven't been eating much. It was a struggle to keep everything down when I visited."

"That's alright. I'll clean up and you can work on the leftovers later." She took his plate and tidied the kitchen. Victor managed to saunter in and attempted to help, but she banished him to the dining room chair with a curt "Aren't you supposed to be resting?"

When she finished, tucked him in on the couch, pulling a blanket around him. "If you need anything at all, call me. I don't care if it's three in the morning and you want me to bring you a coffee. Understood?"

"Thank you," his tone was sincere. "I will."

Sarah left Victor for the afternoon and returned home. She was greeted by a jubilant Ferris the moment she walked in the door. He kissed her tenderly as they embraced in the foyer.

"Someone's in a good mood," she smiled as their lips met again.

"Yes indeed. I believe it requires a toast to GothCorp." He led her to the kitchen and kept her in suspense as he uncorked a new bottle of Champaign. He poured and they clinked glasses.

"So, are you going to tell me what we're celebrating, or are we just going to drink ourselves silly?" Sarah teased. Ferris took a deliberately slow drink, watching her over the top of the glass with a smirk.

"We had a good day at GothCorp. Grant Walker is thrilled with the progress. I must admit, I've never seen an old man dance before, but it was quite a sight. Plus, Bruce Wayne and I had lunch and he's starting to warm up to working with us. He dropped the ball and said there might be future jobs from Wayne Enterprise. And someone," he pointed to himself, "is on the ballet for Bruce's Humanitarian of the Year award." He topped off their glasses.

"So, how's Victor? I think I'm going to switch him over to Bruce Wayne's job."

"He's doing a lot better. It's still going to take time to heal physically and mentally, but I think he's on the right track."

"Good, good. I'm glad," Ferris took a sip. "Did he happen to mention when he thought he would be back to work?"

"Definitely not this week, so don't bother him."

"Oh, I was just wondering. He has plenty of time to take off. How about you and me turn in early?" he purred seductively.

Sarah threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "I'd like that a lot, Mr. Boyle."


	9. Chapter 8

Her lips locked with his. The embrace lasted only a few seconds before he pulled away uneasily.

"I'm sorry," he murmured bashfully, chewing his lower lip as he looked at the floor. "It's just . . . I've been so lonely since-since . . ."

"Say no more," Sarah cooed, placing a finger on his lips. "I'll take care of you." She pulled Victor close, kissing him tenderly. His eyes drooped closed as a smile graced his features. Her hands caressed his cheeks before sliding over his shoulders. He sighed blissfully as her nimble fingers began to unbutton his shirt and lean him back on the bed.

"How dare they!" Ferris fumed. He stood with a start, hardly realizing where he was until he stumbled over the night stand.

"Having trouble sleeping again?" Sarah moaned groggily. "Nightmares?"

"What? Oh, yes, dear. I'm just going to take a quick walk." Instinctively, he headed in the direction the guest rooms, examining all four closely for any signs of life. He lingered the longest in the room Victor had slept in the last time he visited. He could not shake the feeling that he had unwelcome guest, even when the closest scrutiny revealed nothing out of the ordinary. After peering out onto the street and seeing all the usual cars, he returned to bed where Sarah has drifted back into a deep sleep. Ferris reminded himself that he would be seeing Victor in a matter of hours. A restless sleep finally came when he cursed himself for spending too much time fretting over his employee.

Ferris bypassed his office when he went in early to GothCorp, detouring straight to the labs. Victor had already thrown himself head first into his work, as Ferris expected.

"Good morning, Victor," Ferris called cheerfully. "How are you?"

"A lot better, I think," Victor smiled sincerely. Ferris gingerly patted Victor's shoulder as he put on his business smile.

"I'm glad to hear! And you're sure you're ready to get back to work? Because you can take off more time if you need to. We want what's best for you."

"Yes, sir, I'm ready to come back. I just have to be careful about lifting anything that's too heavy."

"We – Well, I was thinking about switching a few people to different departments. I thought maybe it would be better for you to work on Bruce Wayne's project."

"The coolant solution is not complete and I have the notes to finish synthesizing –"

"If you think you feel up to it, by all means, feel free. Just know, I completely understand if you want to work on something else. All you need to do is ask. I'd be happy to move you. We don't want any more_ incidents_."

"Neither would I, sir. I'll be fine here now, really. I'll get started right away!" Victor stated eagerly.

"Alright," Ferris quickly conceded. "Try not to stay late. You won't like it if I have to drag you to your car when I leave." Victor chuckled and swore he would leave on time. Ferris wished him well as he headed out. Gregory meandered in twenty minutes late and caught sight of Victor.

"You're back!" he clapped Victor on the shoulder and shook the scientists chilled hand wildly. "We were having a hard time without you. I'm glad that you're alright now." Victor winced at Gregory's enthusiastic greeting, but smiled pleasantly when the slight pain had receded.

"I'm happy to be back," he answered.

"Ferris says I need to take you out to lunch today. Can I come and collect you at noon?" Gregory asked as Victor sat back down to work.

"Sure, that would be fine."

"Great! Anyway, work-wise, we're basically finished with the machine. We had to make a few minor adjustments, but it's done. The real problem is the coolant. We're starting from scratch on that."

"I have a good start," Victor claimed. "A lot of the details are worked out. I'll get right to it!"


	10. Chapter 9

"Mr. Boyle, sir, we're . . . having a problem with the project," Gregory meekly admitted when Ferris strolled into the labs Wednesday morning.

"It's getting close to the deadline. We don't have time for setbacks!" Ferris snapped. "Can't you do anything right? Do I need to demote you?"

"I think you should talk to Victor about it," Gregory said softly, and led the way. They walked in as Victor was removing the last screw on the side panel.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ferris yelled, causing both employees to flinch.

"The coolant ports need to be replaced," Victor explained with only a hesitant glance in their direction. "They were fitted with glass reinforcements, but that will not withstand the temperature. They need to be made of a stronger substance, like steel.

"Couldn't you have thought of this _before_ we wasted all the time on them?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I thought I had written it in my notes." Victor pried off the side panel, struggling to lay it down gently. Gregory rushed past Ferris and grabbed the end to help. As soon as his end was resting on the ground, Victor clutched at his chest, his face contorted in pain. Gregory nervously knelt at Victor's side until Victor assured him he was fine, explaining he just needed a second to catch his breath.

"Well . . . fix it!" Ferris fumed as he stormed out of the lab. When Ferris returned home from work that evening, Sarah could tell he was still frustrated.

"What's wrong, honey?" she wrapped her arms around his waist. He huffed as he pulled away from her embrace and threw himself on the couch. Lexi made herself scarce as Ferris vented about the corporation's latest round of problems.

"It's bad enough what's-his-face screwed up on the testing procedures for Bruce Wayne's project, so it will have to be redone, setting us back yet another week. Now Victor says '_the coolant ports have to be replaced,'_" he spat in a mocking tone.

"On Bruce Wayne's project? I didn't think plants had coolant ports. Or did you move Victor elsewhere?" Ferris frowned in response, offering no verbal answer.

"You did move him off of Grant's project, correct? And I hope you're not working him too hard. He sounded pained when I called him today."

"I told him to take it easy," Ferris waved off her concern with a flip of his hand. He vacated his spot as he disappeared into the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later, sipping a glass of red wine.

"You didn't answer my question," Sarah pressed as he took a seat.

"Why are you so concerned about him?" he exploded. "I don't want to hear about _poor_ Victor every waking moment!"

"I'm so concerned about him because you aren't! I believe it is your responsibility to take care of your employees when you can."

"It's none of your business how I run my company."

"Well I'm making it my business," Sarah cut in. "He was just released from the hospital less than two weeks ago. He's lucky to be alive and he needs support while he recovers. Not someone pressuring him to work at full speed."

"I can't help what he did," Ferris retorted.

"You could have seen the signs and gotten him help. Everyone in the office said he was not taking off lunch and everyone knew he was staying late, including you. Clearly something was wrong then, yet you did nothing." Ferris glared, his lips pressed close to starve off any vicious comments. Sarah paused with her eyes closed before she continued.

"Do you know why I'm so concerned? My father passed away after thirty years of marriage. My mother went through an awful depression, and I see so much of that in Victor. I'm thankful she went to get help and turned to her friends for support, but Victor is not. None of his coworkers even knew Nora had passed away until nearly a week after the fact. He does not seem to have anyone to go to, and I don't want him to fall back into despair." Ferris only pursed his lips. He stood without another word on the subject and announced he was going to bed.


	11. Chapter 10

Victor did not hear the footsteps behind him, but chanced a glimpse of the person's reflection on the cryogenic suspension chamber. When he turned he could just make out Ferris through the darkened lenses of the wielding mask.

"Good news! I know I'm here a little late, but I think we'll have the ports done –"

Ferris' icy tone cut the scientist short. "You have two missed calls." Victor raised the visor from his face and gingerly sat the equipment on the ground.

"I didn't hear it ring," he explained as he stood. "It's difficult to hear while wielding."

"Would you care to explain why they're both from my wife?" Ferris snarled. Victor tilted his head in confusion, unsure of what Ferris wanted to hear from him. Provoked by the lack of response, Ferris seized the collar of the lab coat and jerked the smaller man towards him.

"Why is my wife calling you?"

"I d-don't know, sir. I-I guess to check on me?" Victor's voice had risen a few notes as he trembled. He had seen Ferris angry, but never such a frenzy in his eyes.

"How did she know you were still here? It's after six. You were supposed to leave three hours ago."

"I'm not sure, sir. Perhaps she called my house and figured I was still here?" In an instant, Ferris backhanded him. Victor's head snapped to the right and he tasted blood in his mouth. He reeled backwards out of Ferris grip, bringing his hands up to his throbbing cheek.

Ferris drew closer and Victor was forced against the machine. A thin trail of blood oozed between Victor's fingers.

"Don't you ever try anything funny with Sarah again," he jabbed his fingers into Victor's chest, bringing out a pained cry from the scientist. "I see what you're doing and it ends now!"

"Sir, I d-don't understand," he whimpered through his hands.

"Don't play stupid with me," Ferris hissed. "You know damn well what I'm talking about. I'm going away for a few days, but I'll know if you try to pull anything else over on me." He spit in Victor's face as he turned to leave.

Victor slid to the floor as Ferris marched out. He did not dare to move until he heard the door leading to the hall slam shut. He wiped the blood and saliva from his face and pulled his knees up to his chest. Only when he finally stopped shaking did he manage to race to his car and drive home.

The phone rang a fourth time before Victor's home answering machine picked up. "Good afternoon, Victor. I don't mean to bother you, but I was just checking in. I didn't hear back from you last night, so I thought I would check today. It's about 2 pm on Saturday. Give me a call –"

Victor snatched the phone from the cradle, unable to avoid the calls any longer. The last thing he wanted was for Sarah to be worried and come for a visit. "Hello, sorry I didn't answer right away. I was . . . in the other room," he lied.

"Oh, that's not a problem. I just wanted to touch base with you. I haven't heard from you since Wednesday afternoon. By the way, did you get my message from last night?"

"I . . . uh, no, I didn't. I got in late last night and went straight to bed. I guess I forgot to check this morning."

"I hope you weren't working that late," he winced at the concern in her voice.

"No, I've left just about on time this week. I was a little later than I wanted yesterday, but also . . . I had to make a grocery run," he hoped it would suffice as an excuse. Technically he had stopped by the store for a quart of milk, but that had not taken more than five minutes, so he knew it was a stretch.

"Alright. Anyway, I was wondering if you would like to go out to dinner this evening. There's a nice Italian place on 19th street. Ferris left this morning for a conference in Metropolis and won't be back until Wednesday. There's no sense if having a large meal cooked just for me."

"Oh . . . no, sorry. I need to do some chores around here. I've got a lot of dishes in the sink . . . and laundry . . ."

"You sound strange. Are you feeling alright?"

"Just a small headache," he ran his fingers over his swollen cheek. He felt like his head was still reverberating from the hit. "Nothing an aspirin can't fix."

"It just sounds like your apprehensive about something. Are you sure nothing's wrong? I can come over if you need me." His heart started racing at the offer and he gripped the phone tighter to keep it from slipping out of his sweaty hands.

"No!" it came out harsher than he meant. "I mean, I'm fine, really. I think I'll lie down for a bit then get to work. I'll . . . I've got to go."

"Call me if you need anything. Bye, Victor."

"Bye," he added tersely. The plastic phone groaned until he loosened his death grip and replaced it with a trembling hand. He meandered to the kitchen and put the single plate in the dishwasher.

"So much for the dishes," he muttered to himself. He tried to busy himself with mindless tasks to calm his nerves. The plants were watered, rooms vacuumed and laundry finished by the early evening. After fixing a small meal for himself, he curled up on the couch to read the newspaper.

Well after the sun had set, there was a loud knock at his door. He jumped to his feet and grimaced at the sudden burst of pain. When it had subsided, he crept to the door. He nearly cursed when he spied Sarah. In his mind ran a dozen ideas to pretend that he was not home, but he knew the living room light and car in the driveway was a dead giveaway. With great resolve, he undid the deadbolt and opened the front door.

"Victor, it's good to see – what happened?" her eyes were immediately drawn to the bruised cheek and split lip.

"I tripped," he tested what he planned to tell all of his coworkers on Monday if the injury had not faded. "What are you doing here?"

"I was out on this side of Gotham and thought I would swing by."

"Oh . . . uh, would you like to come in?"

"I know you have a lot on your plate today, and I don't want to impose. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"It's not a problem," Victor said shyly, holding the door wide. "We can sit in the living room. Can I get you anything?"

"Just some water, if you don't mind." Victor disappeared with a nod as Sarah settled on the new couch. Seconds later, she heard glass shatter and she raced in to a panic stricken Victor.

"I'm s-so sorry. It-it slipped."

"Come and sit down," she took his arm and felt the violent shudders racking him. "I'll clean this up." Sarah led him around the shards and seated him on the couch. Even with the small circles Sarah was tracing on Victor's back, he could not seem to stop shaking.

"What's bothering you?" Sarah's voice was gentle.

"I'm just not feeling well," he shivered as she took his hand, and quickly pulled it back into his lap.

"Is there anything I can do?" Victor shook his head, avoiding eye contact. "Let me sweep up the glass and I'll get out of your hair." She squeezed his shoulder lovingly before she cleaned up the shattered glass. He finally gained control over himself and joined Sarah in the kitchen as she deposited the last tiny shards.

"I'm sorry I was such a poor host," he muttered feebly.

"No need to apologize. I should not have stopped by uninvited. I was just concerned about you when we talked earlier. Please forgive me for worrying too much."

He smiled warmly as she showed herself to the door. They waved as they parted for the evening. The knot in Victor's stomach began to dissipate as she drove away.


	12. Chapter 11

Victor fell heavily into the table of tools, the glass and metal piercing him through his lab coat. Before he could even think to react, his assailant twisted his arm behind him as they thrust him into the wall.

"I thought we had a little chat before I left," Ferris snarled in Victor's ear, before he threw the man to the floor. "You cheating bastard."

"I'm not having an affair with Sarah!" Victor insisted as he rolled to his knees and attempted to rise. His actions were met with a swift kick in the stomach.

"That's not what it looks like to me. My butler told me Sarah was at your house on Saturday," he yelled as he kicked Victor onto his back. He slammed his foot into Victor's chest just below the rib cage.

"She just . . . stopped by to . . . check in," Victor wheezed. He could hardly pull in enough air to breathe, let alone call for help. He realized any noise they made would not get anyone's attention, as Ferris had made sure to close the door to the small lab and few people would be at work so early. For a fraction of a second, Victor regretted working the early shift.

"Just enough for a quickie, hmm?" Ferris brought his foot down again, feeling the ribs start to give way under his force.

"Where do you do it, Victor? In the bedroom?" He moved his assault down Victor's frame, pummeling Victor's groin. "Do you make her lie where Nora used to pleasure you?"

"Puh-please . . . stop," his pleas barely audible. Each breath brought a fresh wave of pain through his chest.

"Do you feel her up with this hand?" Ferris slowly applied pressure to Victor's left hand. He started at the fingertips and ground the bones under his heel. Victor begged frantically, taking a few swings at Ferris' leg with his right hand. Summoning what was left of his strength, he rolled into Ferris' leg, forcing the CEO to stumble back as he balanced himself. Victor made it to his knees, his body screaming in protest. Ferris recovered and his hands were at the collar of Victor's blood stained coat, whipping him to his feet.

"I swear," Victor gasped, "we never." Ferris spit in his face before shoving him backwards. Victor fell into the control panel, reaching for anything that would break his fall. Ferris charged towards him, icy blue eyes blazing as his fist smashed into the key board, Victor escaping the blow by inches. He could not reach the door leading to the main lab as Ferris seized his arm and flung him into the chemical table in the back corner of the room.

Victor no longer fought. He did not move as his blood continued to spread across his shirt and coat. The unfinished coolants pooled about him, drenching his right pants leg. Through his hazy vision, his glasses having been lost in the assault, he glanced up, waiting for Ferris to continue. His will to run had failed him.

Ferris had become preoccupied with the cryogenic suspension chamber. He swore under his breath as the computer signified a power overload caused by the mishandling of the equipment. Ferris attempted to salvage the project and turned to Victor to demand his work. His words were lost as the chamber ruptured with the buildup of pressure and exploded.

The world was silent. Victor could only process the vivid cold, which gradually numbed the pain in his limbs and chest. The blaring warning siren of the labs finally penetrated his daze. He dragged himself to his feet, staggering forward as his right leg had lost present feeling. Through the pale blue gas resulting from the ruptured tank and coolant mixtures, he could just make out Ferris trapped beneath the tank.

Victor stumbled towards him, nearing falling as he reached the destroyed tank. He shoved the smaller debris out of the way. Ferris tried to wriggle out, but to no avail, having been pinned down at the waist. Victor grabbed the tank with both hands, screaming in agony as he forced his broken hand to close over a hand hold. He threw his entire weight behind his pull, but he failed to even budge the massive tank.

"I'm going . . . help," he barely choked out. Ferris frantically commanded that he remove the tank and free him, so Victor nodded as he limped to the main lab. He made it to the door leading outside of the lab before he collapsed against it. He clawed at the door handle, remembering it would do him no good since the security doors had automatically locked to prevent any chemicals from infecting the entire building. Through the reinforced glass, he saw two figures. He hoarsely called out, but could hardly hear his own cries for help.

Resigned to whatever fate had in store for him, he slid to the floor. The security lock clicked and he perked up in surprise. Laura, a fellow co-worker, with the help of a security guard Victor did not recognize, managed to get the door unlocked and open enough to drag the scientist out. Laura pulled him into the warm hallway as the guard secured the door.

"Thank God I was looking in to see what was going on or we would have never gotten you out."

"He's still in there," Victor spluttered, shivering violently from the cold.

"We can't go any further. Let someone with the right equipment go in," Laura told him. Victor tried to pull himself away, his intention to return by himself. Instead, his body betrayed him, and he collapsed in her arms.

"We need to get you to a hospital. Now! They'll handle the . . ."

". . . Victor . . .? Can you hear me?" Victor tried to respond, but every breath ripped through his chest like a wild fire, fragmenting any coherent response. He felt the bed underneath him and understood. Hospital. He was in the hospital recovering from a self-inflicted gunshot wound. That would explain the intense pain in his chest. He forced his eyes open, seeing several undistinguished figures above him. He squinted, trying to bring them into focus.

"Easy now," he heard Sarah coo. "You've been in an accident."

"You gave us all a scare," Laura chuckled uneasily. Victor cocked his eyebrows and tried to form a question: Why had Laura come to visit him? They were not particularly close in terms of friendship, and he could not fathom why she was concerned with his wellbeing. His attempts at speaking were shushed immediately.

"You need to rest," Sarah commanded calmly. "I know you're in a lot of pain right now, but we don't want to give you too much pain medicine since you lost . . . since we don't know all of the effects of the accident in the lab." It finally dawned on him that the confrontation in the lab was no dream. He ignored their constant insistence that he rest as he sought out Sarah, wanting to sit up and speak to her..

"Wha . . .Fah-Fair . . . ris . . .?" It took them a few moments to piece together the broken syllables. Sarah rested a hand on his shoulder and he relaxed back onto the pillow.

"Don't worry about him. You focus on recovering." He would have nodded if he had the strength, instead he slipped back into a dreamless slumber.

When he came to again, his head was clearer. A glance to the right revealed that someone had placed a new pair of glasses on the table near the bed. He slowly reached out with his right hand, aggravating the pain in his chest, which he attributed to broken ribs. With great difficulty, he was able to put the glasses on, though quite askew. Vision restored, he stole a quick glance around the room, noting several small fans around his bed to keep cool air circulating. He was grateful for the fans as he felt like his head was burning up and the room was much too warm for his tastes. He saw a couch below the window and a figure occupying it, but he refrained from calling out. Instead, he passed the time by taking an inventory on the damage.

His hand throbbed constantly and sent electrical jolts of pain down his arm at the mere thought of movement. He could see the cast that incased his hand and wrist, and presumed he had already been through surgery to reset the bones. Judging from the pain when he breathed, he knew several ribs were broken, but guessed no organs had been punctured. He curled his toes a few times, and he was quite happy to find that neither his feet nor his legs hurt with the movement; he only wished for a warmer pair of socks.

He wondered why his feet were so cold when the rest of him was roasting, but he imagined he had a fever. It made sense to him, so he focused on breathing evenly and preoccupied himself by counting the ceiling tiles. Eventually, he heard a rustle by the window. He gave a weak greeting, which brought Sarah to his side.

"How are you?" she asked in a low voice. With a steady hand, she draped a cool, damp cloth over his forehead and straightened his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He almost purred in delight at the relief the cloth brought and mustered up a reply.

"Tired . . . sore," he rasped, his throat drier than he anticipated. Sarah pulled a few pieces of ice from the cup by his bed and placed them in his mouth.

"That's better," he murmured, debating if he should ask about Ferris' condition.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Could I get another blanket for my legs? They're freezing." Sarah nodded and complied to his request. She then pulled up a chair and intertwined her fingers with his uninjured hand.

"I'm sorry this happened to you. The police showed me the footage of Ferris attacking you and a little past the explosion. There was no audio, but I doubt there was any justification for his brutality."

"He thought we had an affair," Victor enlightened her.

"Did he mention it before?" Victor dipped his head in a single nod.

"Before he left on his trip, I'm assuming. That's why you were so nervous when I stopped by?"  
>"I should have told you," he lamented. "I'm sorry."<p>

"No, you have nothing to be sorry for," she assured him, frowning. "You did nothing wrong." He gave a slight squeeze of her hand and tried a reassuring smile, but he feared it looked more like a grimace. Sarah sighed, but had trouble returning his smile.

"I feel horrible that you were stuck in the middle of this. You did so much for his company and this is how he repaid you. I wished he would have talked to me. We might have been able to settle it."

"I'll be alright," he wheezed out, "In time. It's just a few broken bones . . . a few cuts."

"It's not . . . it's more . . ." she stumbled over her words, turning away. When she had collected her thoughts she stated, "It's not just going to be a simple recovery. It's going to be a big change in your life."

"What do you mean?"

"For starters, the chemical gases took their toll on you. You're running a temperature about thirty degrees Fahrenheit lower than the average person. That's why you feel so warm in here. We've knocked the temperature down to fifty degrees and have the fans on, but it probably feels close to eighty to you."

"But my feet feel like they're freezing?"

"The doctors say there's a lot of nerve damage, so they feel cold because that's the last thing your brain remembers. You may continue to feel numb in your . . ." she glanced towards the foot of his bed, "left leg."

"So I just have to be careful on warmer days, right? To avoid heat stroke?"

"Yes, but . . . oh, God, Victor, I don't know if there's an easy way to tell you this," she could not look at him. She stood and paced by his bed, biting her lower lip.

"You can tell me," he assured her hesitantly. He was not sure what to expect, but his curiosity was eating at him.

"I guess there is not elegant way to tell you," she spat bitterly. His eyes followed her as she continued to pace in the small room. She came to an abrupt halt, knowing it was unfair to keep Victor in suspense any longer.

"Victor, they had . . . the doctors had – to save you – they had to amputate your right leg."

"What? . . . I don't understand . . . why?"

"When you fell in the chemicals, they soaked through your work pants. It was worse on your right side, I guess. You contracted frostbite so quickly. They had to . . . remove the infected area to limit the scope of damage." Victor stared blindly at her, mouth ajar.

"I'm so sorry," she sniffed, wiping a tear away from her cheek. Victor struggled to raise himself up, Sarah not bothering to stop him. He managed a few inches and glanced toward the foot of the bed. He saw a ridge in the sheets on his left side, but there was no denying the covers were flat against the bed past his right knee. Vainly, he curled his toes again, as a final check, but there was no movement on the right side.

He collapsed heavily back on the bed, shock masking the pain in his frame. Sarah had pulled a hand to her mouth to stifle her sobs.

"I should have followed procedures," Victor stated hollowly. He should have exited the lab as quickly as possible and discarded any contaminated clothing. He had been taught that for years. Plus, he had been reminded at least once a year in the annual training since he dealt with hazardous chemicals.

"Do not be upset. I . . . knew better." Victor's words were hardly comforting, but Sarah smiled for his sake.

"You know, you're too modest. You're kind and compassionate. Most anyone in your situation would have bolted from the scene of the crime without a second glance back. You risked your life by trying to help Ferris. He was not worth all that you lost to try and save him. He would have left you to die, and never even bother to tell as soul you were still in there."

"I was a fool to marry him," Sarah continued, unable to stop her bitter remarks. "You know he cheated on his first wife, but I gave him a second chance because I thought he had changed. I had hoped he would care more for his employees and I thought he was improving his temper, but I guess I was wrong about both."

"Where is he now?" Victor ventured.

"I don't want you worrying about him. He's not worth it."

"Please tell me. I just want to know if he's alright."

"Do you promise not to take any of it as a personal failure on your part?" she asked gravely.

"I . . . yes," Victor felt a cold dread settle on him.

"They could not get into the lab. It was too hazardous and GothCorp was not equipped for a situation like that. By the time they had the necessary tools, it would have been too late. I know you'll be upset, but they could not save him."


	13. Chapter 12

"Lexi would like to have you over for dinner," Sarah said after Victor answered the phone. "We're having filet mignon flavored dog kibble with cheese flavored dog biscuits for dessert."

"That sounds wonderful," Victor smiled.

"Are you sure you don't mind coming over? I don't want you upset. We can always bring the party to you."

"It won't be a problem," he assured her. "I would love to come and see you and Lexi." Sarah arrived an hour later and waited on the passenger's side to open the door for him. She no longer had to hold her breath as Victor descended his few stairs, as he was slowly but surely mastering the prosthetic leg. The first few days he had been walking after leaving the hospital was a struggle, and she was often at his side as a human crutch. He still relied heavily on the regular crutch, but three weeks of therapy had given him more confidence on his feet.

"You'll have to ride in the back. My co-piolet gets lonely," she held the door open as Victor slid in. Lexi excitedly bobbled side to side, knowing better than to pounce on Victor. When he had seated himself, she scooted closer to him, alternating between sniffing at the prosthetic leg and licking his face with sloppy kisses.

They arrived at the Boyle residence and dined before reclining in the living room. Lexi curled up on the couch cushion next to Victor, resting her head on his lap.

"Are you going to be the new CEO of GothCorp?" Victor posed.

"Maybe. They've invited me to a lot of the board meetings. A lot of people are nervous about filling the position themselves. There is a lot of cleaning up that needs to be done. Let's just say there's a lot of dirt swept under the rugs, and no one wants to get dirty."

"I think you'd be a great leader," Victor insisted.

"We'll just have to wait and see." She was about to say more when Lexi perked her head up and whipped it towards the front door. She was off the couch with a deep growl, bounding for the other room.

"She's never growled like that before," Sarah furrowed her brows as she stood up to investigate. Suddenly, they heard a shrill bark followed by a heavy silence. Sarah had only taken a few steps from the room when she was shoved back by a metal plated arm. She stumbled back into the living room, fists raised to fight the intruder as she regained balance. Victor slowly rose to his feet as the intruder made himself known.

"I'm gone a few weeks and you're sleeping with my wife? You're disgusting," Ferris spat as he clambered in wearing a prototype environmental suit from GothCorp. "You leave me to die and you start f—"

"We're not in a relationship," Sarah asserted, wedging herself between Ferris and Victor with a few side steps. She kept her fists raised and stayed light on her feet, ready to lash out if necessary.

"If you say so," Ferris laughed menacingly. "Doesn't look like that to me." He took a step closer, but Sarah held her ground.

"What happened to your leg, Victor?" he taunted, pressing forward. "Lost it when you ran out like a coward and left me to die? I bet you wanted me out of the picture so you could have Sarah all to yourself."

"Leave him out of this, Ferris. He put off getting help for himself to try and save you. You have no right to talk to him."

"Oh, Sarah, you give him too much praise. He's weak and pathetic. I don't know what you could possibly see in him. He'll bring you no joy."

"He's ten times the man you'll ever be. Unlike you, he's a good person. He cares about the well-being of others more than himself," she stated with no tremor in her voice. With one more step, Ferris finally stepped into her range of attack, and she swung a punch at the glass helmet. He carelessly batted her out of the way and she crumbled to the floor from the shock. Victor backed up, trying not to stumble. Ferris was on him in an instant and knocked him to the floor. He crushed Victor's prosthetic leg as he held the squirming man down. Detaching one of the pipes from the tank on the back of the environmental suit, Ferris held the nozzle in Victor's face, forcing him to breathe the pressurized coolant formula.

"This is how you left me to die: freezing from the inside out! Let me repay the favor!" Victor tried to shove Ferris off of him, but he was powerless. Around him, he felt the already uncomfortable temperature skyrocket to an oppressive heat. His eyes drooped and his frantic struggles became sluggish.

Sarah flung herself against Ferris, having recovered her senses. Ferris was knocked clear of Victor, who felt the heat dissipate enough to breathe. The air burned as it filled his lungs, but he found the will power to flee.

Fed up with the interruptions, Ferris grabbed Sarah's arm, and hurled her into the nearest wall. She fell in a heap, unmoving.

"Looks like it's just you and me," Ferris grinned wickedly. He casually walked over to Victor who had crawled near the fireplace. Victor seized a fireplace poker and brandished it in front of him like a rapier. He took a wild swing at Ferris' leg, but the weapon merely bounced off the metal exterior. Ferris grabbed the weapon when Victor went for a second swing and jerked it free of the scientist's hands.

"Is that the best you've got?" Ferris sneered as he knelt down.

"I'm sorry," Victor tried feebly. "I didn't mean for anything to happen to you."

"Really?" Ferris trusted the weapon forward, impaling it in Victor's left thigh. "You wanted me to die. Look what you've done to me! I'm forced to live in this suit! You've ruined my life, just so you could have my wife!" He ripped the fireplace poker from Victor's leg and held the dripping weapon aimed for the center of Victor's head. With deliberate slowness, he forced the weapon forward.

"I want you to feel every inch of this as it passes through you hollow skull!" Victor pushed against Ferris' metal clad hand with all of his might, but he could not stop the approaching point of the weapon. He was almost ready to submit to death at Ferris' hands when a plan sprung to mind.

Instead of pushing against Ferris, he welcomed the attack, jerking Ferris' arms forward. Victor drove his head to the side as Ferris fell forward at the sudden change of force, the fireplace poker jabbing into the wall socket. Victor covered his face as the electrical shock racked the environmental suit above him, the lights flickering a few times until finally the room was plunged into darkness. Several seconds later, the generator kicked in, and the room was illuminated with the backup light system.

Ferris laid several feet away, the suit sparking sporadically. Victor could still hear him breathing harshly.

"Even at your best, you failed," Ferris taunted weakly. He tried to sit up, but the suit was too heavy to move since the movement circuits had failed. Victor crawled a bit closer, feeling lightheaded and fatigued from the current room temperature.

"You're minutes are numbered," Ferris laughed. "At least this suit will keep me alive. This room is too hot for you. Aren't you feeling a bit toasty under the collar?" Victor still moved closer, sitting above Ferris' helmet. He reached out and began to release the locks.

It took Ferris a moment to realize what Victor was doing. He thrashed his head from side to side, the only movement he was capable of as he pleaded with Victor. The last lock was released and Victor pulled the glass dome off. He rolled it away as Ferris face began to steam and blister. Ferris screamed in agony, first because of the heat, then pain as Victor began to punch Ferris' head with his good hand.

"Stop. He's dead." Victor kept up the repetitious pace until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Ferris had long since stopped screaming, but Victor still pounded on. With one last hit that glanced off the suit and skinned Victor's knuckles, he finally ceased the movement and toppled backwards. Sarah wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hoisted him off the floor. She dragged him into the kitchen, lying him gently on the floor next to the full sized freezer. Shelves and food were ripped out and discarded on the floor as she emptied the freezer. She lifted Victor into the space, his harsh breathing softening instantly at the chill.

"I'm sorry," he wheezed out. "I couldn't stop."

"I know," she whispered as she rubbed her temples.

"I didn't want to stop." She said nothing for a long time. Finally, she rested a hand on his shoulder tenderly.

"I might have done the same thing," she admitted.

"I . . . I killed him," the realization slowly sank in. "It wasn't . . . in self-defense." After a quick pause, Victor added, "I'm going to tell the police that when they come."

"It's best to tell the truth," she agreed as she finally dialed 911.


End file.
